


Some Nights

by indoissetep



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everybody Lives, F/M, M/M, OT3, Panic Attacks, Psychological Trauma, this ot3 is good and pure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:52:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8868079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indoissetep/pseuds/indoissetep
Summary: The nights are the worst, but they have each other to lean on when things get too hard.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rogue One destroyed me, so I decided to ignore the ending and write this to comfort myself.

The nights are the worst.

Some nights Jyn tosses back and forth because the open wound left by all the things, all the people, that have been ripped from her won’t let her rest. Because her chest aches with longing and regret, and sleep eludes her.

On those nights she’ll pad quietly down the hallway to knock almost too quietly on Bodhi’s door. Half hoping he won’t hear her and she won’t rob him of some much needed sleep.

But he always wakes, ever the light sleeper, and comes quickly to the door.

Immediately, she folds herself against his chest without a word.

Somehow, Bodhi understands. He always does.

He leads her gently to his bunk and lets her seat between his legs, head tucked against his shoulder and his arms tight around her body. His thumbs rub slow circles against her arms, and she can feel her own chest rise and fall with the rhythm of Bodhi’s breathing.

“Tell me about my father,” she will ask sometimes, and he does.

He tells her about the first time they met, when Galen had asked him for a cig – “he never used to smoke before,” she says. He tells her about how her father’s words had fanned the embers of dissent inside of him, had given him the courage to risk everything in order to align his actions with the path he’d always known was the right one.

How Galen had talked about his beloved daughter, out there in the Galaxy somewhere. How he prayed every day that she was safe. How he’d called her stardust.

_Stardust._

The word is whispered against Jyn’s hair, more of a kiss than actual speech.

And she’s already asleep in his arms.

 

* * *

 

 

On other nights, the knock will come on Jyn’s door. Sharp and precise. She will open it to find Kaytoo looming in the hallway.

“It’s Cassian,” is all it says, before turning and walking away.

She will find Cassian minutes later, in some secluded part of the base. On the roof, more often than not. Sitting with his back to the wall and knees drawn up to his chest, staring off into starlit nothingness.

She will sit next to him, uninvited but implicitly welcome, put her arms around him, and just wait.

And as slowly as water erodes away at solid rock, Cassian’s shoulders start to relax.

The words are even slower to come and every one of them seems to take enormous effort.

He tells Jyn about informants left with shotwounds still smoking in dark alleys. About friends abandoned, cries for help unheeded, for the sake of the mission. About even greater horrors ignored because duty called him elsewhere.

And rarest of all, and most difficult of all, about his homeplanet. He describes the faces of his parents and sisters, and the faceless soldiers who took them from him.

So much lost in one lifetime.

So Jyn gives him what she can.

The warmth of her arms around him.

Words of understanding and hope and love.

And kisses to catch the tears on his cheeks.

 

* * *

 

 

Some nights the trembling starts in Bodhi’s hands, vibrations traveling from his fingertips to his arms to his whole body. On others it seems to start within his chest, his heart sttutering and convulsing out of tempo.

It always comes out of nowhere, it seems.

Suddenly, his legs can no longer support his weight, his vision blurs and darkens, and there isn’t enough oxygen in the room to fill his burning lungs.

He’s drowning, engulfed in sights and sounds and sensations from the past. From that cave in the outskirts of Jedha, the interrogation cell and the terrible creature therein.

Cassian will find him on the bunk or on the floor, it doesn’t matter, curled up into ball. He will kneel down next to him and, with a patience and tenderness that cannot be found at any other moment, Cassian will try to coax him back into the present.

It feels like whole cycles go by with Cassian’s hands rubbing his arms or touching his cheek. He talks to him gently, things like “breathe, breathe. You are here now. I am here. It’s okay”.

And slowly the sights and sounds and sensations of the present moment overcome those of the past.

His heart finds its rhythm again and the shaking subsides. And he’s able to convince his head to nod slowly at Cassian’s words.

Cassian smiles then – a smile that cannot be found at any other time – and Bodhi feels himself smiling in return.

 

* * *

 

 

There are nights when the three of them give up any pretense of secrecy and simply pile into a single room.

Their bunks are far too narrow to fit three adults, so the floor it is. Blankets are folded under them to provide some comfort, though all of them are used to very little of that.

They may fall asleep in any of a number of different configurations. But Cassian usually ends up squeezed in the middle, with Jyn hogging all the covers on one side and Bodhi snoring softly against his ear on the other. Limbs tangled so tightly that it’s hard to tell which belongs to whom.

These nights are not so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @capcassianandor


End file.
